Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Not too long ago, I announced my official retirement from Psychedelic Kimchi. You probably missed it, or, more likely, ignored it. I'm known now and then to make bold claims which I have no resolve to actually follow through on, and while my intent still is to concentrate my writing endeavors more privately and expansively, I failed to -- again -- understand and foresee just how vital Psychedelic Kimchi is to my writing routine. I can't quit PK cold turkey much in the same way I can't stop smoking or masturbating. For better or worse, I need PK. And so do you.

The new resolution doesn't mean a decline in quality, I hope, just a different focus. I'll still use this (hallowed) blog to test waters creatively, but I'm also going to make an effort to return to PK's blogging roots: sexy women and making fun of the elderly riffing loosely and not showing off so much. That last part makes me sound conceited, maybe; what I mean is that I've sometimes gone out of my way to write in a certain style solely as an experiment or to prove that I can, not because I genuinely wanted to. Or because I was drunk. Usually because I was drunk.

That ends now (no, not the being drunk part). What you'll get from PK in the future will, I hope, be organized confusion rather than confusion organized.

Will it be any good? I have no idea. But like I said, I need Psychedelic Kimchi. It's the aorta to my creativity, for better or worse.

One last point in this first point: the Moviepiphanies posts now have their own blog, http://moviepiphanies.blogspot.com/. The theme is movie scenes or related content that strike me in a very unique, personal/emotional/comedic/beautiful way. I have that pretty well covered, I think, but what I lack is a layout. I would appreciate any readers who could offer assistance in that regard.

Harrow

Flying, man.

Perhaps me traveling via air is a reflection of my personality, because when the skies are clear I love being on an aeroplane; it's only when things get a little bumpy that I start to freak out. It doesn't help that the last two long-haul flights I've taken home from Seoul over the past two years were nightmares of turbulence, and not "ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts, we're encountering some turbulence" turbulence but stewardesses telling kids to buckle up because they might get slammed against the fuselage ceiling by a sudden altitude drop turbulence. I don't mind a few bumps over the pacific, but when the bulk of a ten-hour flight consists of white-knuckle seat grabbing, I can't calmly accept air travel regardless of how much I've tried in recent years.

I'm not stupid; I know the chance of an airplane crash is lower than me winning the lottery and having my duck sicked by Son Dan Bi on the same day. I know that the "danger" in air travel, however minuscule, is in taking off and landing. I know planes aren't made of paper and therefore don't crash to Earth from a little wind or a lot. I know all of this, yet I cannot for the life of me fly comfortably.

I could when I was a kid. Even when I was a teenager I could. It's when I moved to Korea ten years ago that I developed an acute fear of flying. (This was a year and some months before 9/11, mind you, when pretty much everyone became scared to fly, at least for a time.) As I've gotten older, I've become more and more aware of my mortality, and, I suppose, for whatever reason*, more paranoid.

Conversely, I've tried to confront my fears and neuroses head on in an effort to be a more resilient human being. I'm not like Howard Stern or Lars von Trier in that I refuse to fly, but with all these long, excruciatingly uncomfortable flights, I feel as though years of my life are being shaved from pure stress.

I'm not the only one. In regard to the TV industry's rush to produce 3D televisions, MSN writer Mike Schuster opined, "You know why nobody rides a roller coaster to work? Because not only would it lose its appeal after the first week, it's completely impractical." Air travel is practical, but I don't want to ride a roller coaster for nine hours. Unfortunately, until the physics in Stephen King's short story, "The Jaunt," are mastered, there's no other way.

What I Discover When I Experience Jet Lag

If there's an upside to all this traveling (besides the obvious like seeing the family and eating all manner of delicious, unhealthy food**), it's that I'm constantly encountering cool things. Yesterday, awake at 4:30 AM due to jet lag, I turned on Bravo to see this video:

What a great song. Also, randomly flipping through channels in the afternoon, I caught the entire Star Trek episode, "The Trouble with Tribbles." Somebody up there likes me.

(Or not. The downstairs television -- the one with over 500 fucking channels -- has no remote. Lovely. And the settings are set to German. Volumen? What the hell?)

No Reservations

Microwaveable shepherd's pie, macaroni and cheese, and two-dollar burritos make my Gene Colon blow, I've learned...It's always a shock to eat ruffled chips bigger than a cat's head...Mott's Clamato Caesar, now in a convenient bottle, already mixed. Can I get a soul clap? Tomato, clams, and liquor: not as weird a mixture as Frisbee and golf...